Out of the Frying Pan
by Zurizip
Summary: Chapter Two - “D-do your bird’s normally…just…um.” She stopped mid-sentence, aware that this place probably had as many loony bins as her world. “Do your birds normally carry on conversations with people?"
1. Of Streams and Different Worlds

            Out of the Frying Pan – Take Two. 

            **(yes, you may skip the authors note, it mostly applies to people who've read the story before.)**

            This fanfic was posted two years ago and was nearly finished, but, as with many fanfics, I lost interest as time got short and life butted in.

            **However**.  I found this fic again a few weeks ago and went 'Hey!  If I spiff this up a bit, it could turn out pretty good!'  I am a much better writer now, so you all are in for a treat (I hope).  Everything is similar at least, the overall plot isn't changed (even if the main character's name is drastically different), so if you can stand the writing and you desperately want to know what happens, I'm going to try and keep the old one up (I'm hoping ff.n doesn't yell at me for it.)  I really want to finish it this time, and I'm not breaking it into two books.  So get ready folks, because the new, improved, less Mary-sued, spiffed up, better and overall great fanfic **Out of the Frying Pan**, has returned for your reading pleasure!!! 

            Have fun and **review**!

            She stood by the creek, entirely depressed.  Life completely sucked.  Her parents were at each other's throats, and their stress rubbed off on her, thus making her grades a living hell.  She was a senior, and college loomed on the horizon.  Insistent, her dog, Satina, pulled on the leash again. She sighed, pulled out of her thoughts. Following her dog on the trails, she tried to ignore the odor of the heavily polluted stream.  "Satina, stop pulling so hard,"  she said to the overexcited dog,  "Stop it!"  For such a small dog, she thought, she sure can pull. Giving up, she followed her down to the water, looking down at it.  It's oil slicked surface reflected her disheveled self back at her.  She sighed. Her dog pulled again, this time trying to cross the stream. She followed, balancing on top of a log to avoid the murky water. Suddenly, she saw a rabbit going the opposite way. _Oh crap, I'm in trouble now_, she thought. Her dog saw it at the same time she did, and went the other way, pulling her off of her perch. She fell, slapping the water hard. Satina was pulled along with her, since she didn't have the presence of mind to release her. Kat's head went under the water, and she came up spluttering and cursing.  "Satina!!!! What in the world were you thinking?! I was on top of that thing you know!"

            The dog didn't seem to notice, but she seemed to get a faint feeling of regret from somewhere.  She shook her head, no time to feel sorry for herself, she should probably just get home and wash up. Satina had already crawled out of the water and was now running the length of the leash to see what she could see. Kat pouted in the water, thinking on how this certainly complimented her day. She shivered.  Was the water always this cold?  She didn't think so.  It was the middle of summer after all.  
            She looked around again, something was strange. Really strange. She sniffed. Where did the smell go? She looked around her, and began to get scared. Where were the houses on the right, she could usually see them from here! Realizing that she was still sitting down, she breathed easier; that was probably it. Getting up, she nearly fell down again. Instead of the usual green-blue water that was her creek, there was a clear stream. Replacing the fine sand were smooth river rocks.  She looked up, down, and up the stream again, it looked the same, except for the subtle differences. The water was colder and clearer, but the trees were in the same alignment. Best to start with what I know, she decided, and tramped out of the water, onto the bank.  
            It was strange, and yet familiar. When she came to the place where she usually came down, she found a young man, filling a battered metal pitcher.  He was dressed strangely, and seemed too old to be one of the kids that played with the sand, the ones who usually got water from the creek.  "What _are_ you doing?" she asked, looking at him incredulously, "You aren't going to drink it, surely?"  
            The man took one look at her and dropped the pitcher, running in the opposite direction.  Kat sighed, just what she needed, some mother after her for being a flasher or something to that effect. She tramped up the hill after her, pulling her dog along with her.  "Satina! Please get your nose off the ground, we do need to walk you know."  
            The dog promptly ignored her, insisting that sniffing was just as important as walking.  
            She quirked an eyebrow, then shook her head.  "Whatever you say, dog." Continuing to walk, she realized that the woods should have stopped by now, but they hadn't. Looking up, she found not the cloudless day she had had before, but instead a large mushroom cloud of red and black. She cursed.  "What is going on?"  she said to no one in particular.

            The thing just drifted away on the wind. She continued to walk. A half hour later, the tree line abruptly stopped. Kat stopped. Satina even stopped. They both stared. In front of them was a battle ground.  "Oh my god…"  
            Instead of a park playground, there was a battle ground, strewn with bodies. Some were boys, bleeding and in pain. Some were men, in the same condition. The most distinctive difference she noticed, over the shock, was that they were in different colors. Blue and white, and red and copper.  "Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?" she squeaked.  
            No one answered. Well, someone did, but not her question. 

            "Halt! Who do you hail?"  
            She turned to the voice, it was a young man, another one?  "Hail?"   
            "Yes, hail. Which country do you hail from?"  
            She scowled.  "I come from the USA!"  It occurred to her that since everything else had changed, this person probably did not know of the United States. She was right, for once in the day.  
            "The USA?"  
            She babbled.  "I don't know, you probably haven't heard of it but it was right here..."  
            The man, she assumed he was a guard of some sort, levered a crossbow at her chest and glared.  "Do you hail The Stormwing Ozorne or King Jonathon?" he said loudly, stopping her gibber.  
            She was now very scared. For one thing, it was a crossbow. A crossbow, aimed at her chest. She would have at least expected a gun. In fact, she would have preferred it; that at least would have made sense.  "Listen, I have no idea what you are talking about, I was taking a walk with my dog I fell in the water, and here I am. Could you possibly explain this to me?  I'm very confused, and more than slightly frightened."  
            The man started and lowered his bow. She realized that he was only a little older than her. God, this is strange, she thought. The man looked her up and down, lingering on...uncomfortable places. She refrained from moving, decided that he was skittish enough. She did however wish she wasn't wearing a full skirt and tank top. He was interrupted by a call for help. She followed him over to a wounded man. He knelt beside him with his pitcher and began to wash his wounds. Her natural humanness got the better of her, and she began to help him. As he cleaned his leg, she took his head and put it on her lap. She knew it was a bad idea, but his arms and legs worked fine, so the neck probably wasn't broken.  
            "Hi."  She said quietly, suddenly shy.  
            The man looked at her oddly.  "Youngster, do you know where you are?"  
            "No."

            He gestured weakly around him.  "You are sitting on the greatest battlefield in many years, where man, beast, and immortal all clashed."

            She bit her lip.  "Why?"

            "The same reason as always," he said, his voice growing steadily weaker, "power."  He gripped her hand, "but I was part of it, and I am proud."

            She nodded, unable to trust her voice.  She had never seen a person die, but she knew that this man was going to.  The boy had stopped cleaning the wounds, shaking his head.     He choked. She didn't even bother trying to resuscitate him. It was pointless, and besides, he had been ready. She wiped his mouth with the corner of her skirt. Most of it was now splattered with dust, mud and blood. She stood up, and moved on with the man. They began walking to another. In their path, a copper uniform stood out. The man stepped around it, but she stopped.  
            "Do not bother with him, he is an islander."  
            She glared at him.  "All deserve someone with them at their death."  
            "Even if they are evil?"

            She didn't answer him, a lifetime of living in a political atmosphere exactly the opposite of her own had taught her to keep her mouth shut.

            He was stubborn though.  "Speak, even if they are evil?"

            "Your enemies believed that you were as evil as you believe them to be.  There are two sides to a war you know."  She didn't care if she sounded blunt, he was being heartless. To her, that was a much higher crime. He gaped at her.  
            "Who are you?"  
            She turned away. "Kat."  
            "Odd name for a noble...or are you a noble?"  
            It was all beginning to come into place...sort of.  "I do not own lands, if that is what you're asking, and I don't think my family name would be worth anything here, so no, I guess I'm not a noble."  
           She turned away from him again, and found then man was already dead. She sighed, she was tired, confused, in pain, horrified, and already wishing that she could go home. Getting up, she turned to the man.  
            "I have told you my name," she said, "now, could you possibly be so kind as to tell me yours?" 

            He smiled, and against the dirt, grime, blood in his shirt, and horrors in his eyes, she could see the sixteen-year-old in him.  "Nealen. Nealen of Green Mountain."

Well.  There you have it.  The real differences com later.  Maybe tonight if I feel generous.


	2. Of Kings and Wings and other Things

            Oh come **on**!!!  I got 89 reviews on this.  I know it's all mary-sue based, but I like to think I'm a bit better than that!  Sheesh.  Hard noses.  Ok, how bout this, I give you nice long chapter, you give me…one review?  Two?  Please?  begs  It starts getting better here!  I promise!

            sigh  well.  Here ya go, either way.  If your reading, just review, even if it's just a dash, to show me that I do have readers after all.  Otheriwse I would have done fifteen pages of editing and rewriting for my own amusement.  glare

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            She looked at him blankly.  "Of?"  
            He nodded, seeming to have taken on her perspective; nothing was too strange.  "Of Green Mountain, in Tortall's east. To be precise, near The Golden Lake."  
            "The Golden Lake? Tortall? Oh dear."  One word, or rather, name, flashed across her mind. Raoul of Golden Lake. Now it really made sense. Or, at least, some sense. She looked up; Nealen was staring at her again.  "Didn't your mother teach you not to stare?"  She said, vexed.  
            He smiled.  "Yes, but do you listen to your mother?"  
            She sighed.  "Point taken."    
            He seemed a little too amused by her defeated tone.  "I apologize, it's just, there's no one around here that's anything like you."  
            "Well, it's a comfort to see that some things haven't changed."  She grumbled.  
            He just looked at her again, then began to walk.  "Come on, we need to get you to my captain."  
            "No! Please, can't we keep helping?"  She didn't want to meet anyone new just yet.  Her mind was already reeling.

            "There's nothing to worry about, the healers are coming over here now. They'll take care of them."  
            "Even the," she fumbled for the word he had used. "Islanders?"  
            He turned.  "All healers have a code that says they must heal all in need of help.  I can't say anything for their safety after ward, but for now, they will be helped." 

            Tight-lipped, she nodded.  
            He closed his eyes.  "Have you ever ridden a horse?"  
            "Yes, but it has been a very long while."  She said, thinking of the days when she had had a friend that rode horses.  
            "Very well, I'll find a gentle mount then."  
            "What about Satina?"  
            "Oh, is that the dog?"  
            "Yes."  
            "All horses are used to dogs, she can run along beside us."  
            She gulped. Well, I'll just have to trust that she'll follow, she thought, because I'm going to have to concentrate on staying ahorse. Just then, two horses came over at full speed. One was pure black, and the other was a bay.  
            "Wow."  
            Neal swung his leg over the saddle of the bay, and beckoned to her.  "Come on, Kat, let's get you to the fort."  
            Kat knelt beside her dog, ruffling the soft hair on her head.  "Satina," she said, pleading, "Please run with us, I know it's interesting but we need to get this sorted out.  And I can't get anything done if I'm worrying about you."  
            With that, she unclasped the leash. The dog sped to the tree line and back, the ahead of them. She breathed a sigh of relief, it looked as if she would at least loosely stay with them.  
            "You know, she's faster than some of our wolf hounds."  Nealen commented.  
            She didn't answer, just attempted to get into the saddle. It worked, sort of. She hadn't ridden for almost three years. At first they started at a slow trot, and worked their way up to a canter. Though she had some problems with the canter, she stayed on without much mishap. Satina was having a ball racing the horses, and losing. Finally, they reached a large stone structure. She assumed it was the fort. Suddenly realizing that Nealen was slowing down, she reigned in her horse gently. They then both stopped. Nealen dismounted easily. This was the part she hated. She could never dismount right. Attempting to do it, she slipped over, and awkwardly fell onto her feet, grabbing Nealen's arm for support.  
            "Drat. I never could do that right."  She heard a muffled noise, and didn't even need to look up to see that he was laughing.  Her mood was not in good enough of a condition to join him.  "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, I know it looked funny."  She shoved him in taking her arm off, making it look as if she hadn't meant to. He took one step back in surprise, then regained his composure.  
            "Come on. Bring the dog."  
            "You think I could actually catch her?"  
            "Well, she is right behind you."  
            She looked, and found that he was right. Satina was sitting behind her, panting.  "Ok, whatever, Satina, come on."  
            She followed Nealen in, and Satina followed them. They were led into a small circular room with two men in it. Nealen immediately stopped and bowed low. Kat looked at him for a second and followed suit, curtsying as the ladies at the renaissance faire had taught her. She looked up after a second. The black haired man looked a bit wind swept, as if he had just taken a ride in a convertible. The other man was slightly red cheeked, but it looked like the kind of red that was always there. He had a pockmarked face with washed out blue eyes. The black-haired man had blue eyes, but they were hard, like a blue diamond. He looked at her and her blood spattered skirt, a curious light in his eyes.           
            "Nealen, who have you brought for us, she does not look like any of the riders."  
            "No sire, I found her by the stream."  
            She gulped. "Sire? As in King? As in King... Jonathan?"  
            All three of the men stared at her. Nealen gently kicked her, and whispered "Yes king!  Are you deaf and dumb?"  
            She gulped again, ignoring the slur on her intelligence, then curtseyed again.  "Excuse me for my ignorance sire, I did not know of your station."  
            Nealen stared at her. Jonathan did the same for a moment, and then snapped out of it. The other man stayed silent and watching.  "All is excused my dear, please sit down."  
            The other man stood up, he was only half a head taller than Neal, but the grace and concentration that radiated from him was enough to make him seem as if he were 10 feet.  "Squire Nealen, would you care to give us an introduction...and an explanation?"  
            Jonathan stood up, "I shall leave you to it, Imrah, I must help the guards."  
            The man nodded, and the king walked out. Then he turned his gaze to Neal again. The squire didn't need him to say anything, so he cleared his throat and started.  "Lord Imrah, I found this girl at the edge of the forest. She had just walked out with her dog from the stream about 50 feet into the forest..."  
            "That's all it was? Gees, I must have wandered around for an hour."  
            Neal glared at her, cleared his throat again, and started anew. "She did not know of the battle, and was very confused. When I asked her who she swore to, she did not know what I spoke of. She has however helped me to clean numerous soldier's wounds."  He did not mention the arguments about the men of the copper isles. Lord Imrah sat back, contemplating. It was silent for a minute, and then he spoke.  
            "Thank you Nealen, go and stand outside."  
            She gulped. Great, he's probably going to grill me or something, she thought grimly. Nealen stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door after him. Again, it was silent. She played with the draw string of her skirt, and ended up unraveling it a bit before she stopped herself. A voice broke her concentration.  
            "You must excuse my squire, he is a genius, but a forgetful one. I do not believe I have had the pleasure to know your name?"  
            She took a deep breath. Best to keep your story the same, she decided.  
            "Kat."  
            He seemed taken aback by the name. She didn't blame him, it was a bit strange, there was no land or last name attached, just Kat. He rustled, and reached his hand into a pocket in his overcoat.  
            "A unique name. Are you a noble?"  
            "I do not own lands, if that is what you mean."  
            "Where did you come from?"  
            She winced, it was a reasonable question, but not one she really knew the answer to.  
            "Um...I guess you could say another world...but I don't really know..."  
            "What did you say your name was?"  
            "Kat."  Should she say her last name anyway?  She wasn't sure.  
            He snorted.  
            "Who do you hail?"  
            "I do not know.  I suppose King Jonathan."  
            "How old are you?"  
            "Seventeen, eighteen in September"  
            "September?"  
            She sighed. Figures, she thought.  
            "It's a way of measuring time, where I come from."  
            He took his fingers out of his pockets, dusting them of a fine powder. She narrowed her eyes, this was strange. If she was where she thought, then something was fishy.  
            "Are you performing magic on me?"  
            Lord Imrah looked surprised.  "How did you know?"  
            She pointed to his hand.  "You should be more inconspicuous when using that."  
            He raised his eyebrows. "Then you already realize I have caught your deception.  What is your true name?"  
            "My lord, there is no deception, My full name is Katrina Brianne Nolen.  I'm very confused, and I didn't think that a last name would mean anything here…wherever here is."  
            "Ah, I see."  He said, not looking convinced.  
            Sure ya do, she thought before her nice side told her to shut up before she got herself killed. She continued to fiddle with her skirt before he talked further.  
            "Well, since you have lied of nothing else, I shall take the name that you have given me."  
            "Thank you sir, you are very kind."  He stared at her for a moment, perplexed, and then laughed heartily.  
            "My dear, if you always talk that well, you will make it far in this world!"  
            She sighed in relief, glad to have that piercing gaze not leveled on her any more.  
"I don't always talk this way, but I do when I'm trying to make a good impression."  
            He cocked an eyebrow.  "My dear...Kat was it?"  
            She nodded.  
            "Can you talk to your enemies and friends as such?"  
            "Words are the best way to duel and make it far where I'm from."  
            He nodded.  "How much schooling have you had?"  
            She thought. Obviously he didn't mean what grade she was in, but what she could do.  "I can read and write well. I can do math, I know some biology, chemistry, and medicine. I know world geography...oh wait. Never mind that."  
            "Why, never mind?"  
            She sighed. Ok, I'm going to have to do this sometime, she decided.  
            "It doesn't matter here obviously, I mean you don't have and Africa or an Asia do you?"  
            He shook his head.  "It is true, we are without these places."  
            "Well, that's one of the things we learned, it was called world geography...looks like I'm going to have to learn it all over again..."  
            "Yes, you will, if you to do what I am thinking."  
            "And what is that?"  
            "Several of our diplomats were killed in the immortal's war. We are in desperate need of people who can weave words around someone like a net."  
            "Erm, I don't know." She said shyly  "I'm a little blunt, and sometimes a bit quick with said bluntness. I don't have any training in the etiquette of your country, will you be able to teach me that?"  
            He nodded.  "Of course we will. Only you will not be learning our etiquette alone, we will teach you seating arrangements of various countries as well as our own."  
            A small bird peeped from the open window. Kat looked and saw that it was a Junko. She loved the small birds, and wondered that it was sitting so close to her.  
            "Hello little bird." She said.  
            The bird peeped in reply, reciprocating her greeting.

            "What are you doing, sitting in windows?"  
            A friend asked me to be here.

            Kat paused, then backed away her chair so quickly that she nearly fell over.  Lord Imrah calmly observed as she bit her knuckle, looking at the tiny bird as if it had just grown three heads.   Drawing a breath, she slowly sat up and gained her composure.  It was nothing she told herself, nothing but her imagination, she wasn't going crazy.  Still…she could have sworn that bird had just…dare she say it?...Talked to her!  After a moment of hearing no voice in her head, she looked at Imrah. 

            "D-do your bird's normally…just…um."  She stopped mid-sentence, aware that this place probably had as many loony bins as her world.  But a stupid question could always be written off to confusion.  "Do your birds normally carry on conversations?"  
            Lord Imrah gave her another strange look. He then grabbed a mirror from the stand. Kat, was still to annoyed at herself to pay much attention, but did hear him ask someone if Numair Samilian was available. The mirror replied that they were looking for him and Daine right now. She heard a soft trill, and a small black shadow perked up from the man's coat pocket. Darking, she thought automatically, not sure where the knowledge had come from. Lord Imrah leaned over to the door and opened it. Nealen stumbled in.  
            "Well Nealen, now you can stop listening with the birds. And I have a question."  
            Nealen, who had turned red, bowed, saying,     "Yes my lord?"  
            "Did Numair teach you to see magic within something?"  
            "He did, I'm not very good at it though."  
            Lord Imrah nodded to Kat.  "Can you see any magic in her? I believe that it might be wild magic, but I cannot be sure."  
            Neal's eyes widened in surprise, but he sat and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, and he seemed to relax. Then his eyes slowly opened, he gasped and opened them all the way, losing all concentration.  
            "She has magic my lord, and it is wild magic, but it's different, not like mine, or Daine's"  
            "How much does she have?"  
            "More than me, but less than Daine, but it is very strange!"  
            Lord Imrah nodded, looking at her with that contemplating look again. She decided that she didn't like that look, something strange always came from it. He sighed.  
            "Well, Kat," said Imrah with an amused air, "it looks as if you will have to stay at the palace for longer than we anticipated, since judging by the look on your face you didn't even know you had magic of any sort."  
            She nodded dumbly, totally speechless. Satina, forgotten until the, rubbed her head on Kat's foot. She leaned down to pet her out of reflex. This is the last link to home, she realized, all I have from earth is Satina. She wiped suddenly leaky eyes, trying her hardest not to cry in front of the two men. Lord Imrah took the hint, and said,  "Nealen, find some proper cloths for her, give her some of yours if you need to, and get her into bed."  
            "No sir, please, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. May I help somewhere?"  
            He considered her request, and nodded.  
            "Nealen, find a place for her, but still get her cloths, she can't go around like that."  
            She nodded mutely, glad that she would be able to have some real cloths and something to do. Rising, she shuffled out, following Nealen.

Review?  Please? ---'--


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